


Courtesies and Sins

by orphan_account



Category: Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Anxiety, Desperation, F/F, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, situational depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-22
Updated: 2016-09-22
Packaged: 2018-08-16 16:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8109319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Erin contends with the anxiety and trauma from her past, precipitated by Abby's distance. Life has its fabulous moments, as well as its tragic.This is a general exploration of situational depression and emergence from it.(Eventual Erin/Holtzmann)





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a chaptered fic, with some chapters as vignettes.

On rainy nights, the days of summer seem far and imagined.

Erin Gilbert loved rainy nights. Unless, that is, they closed her in with her regrets, and with the things she could not change. 

Erin had tried contacting Abby. She had called her once. She had called her twice. She had called her fifteen times. She had sent a text message saying "Would you like to talk? We haven't talked in weeks."

Sometimes Erin lay on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. Her ceiling was very interesting, once she spent enough time staring at it to notice. She theorized that it had been a popcorned ceiling and when they realized popcorn let off asbestos, the person who owned the apartment building had painted it over. It still showed through though, a little, the marks underneath.

Erin still showed through a little. She knew it. Sometimes Holtzmann would look over at her, raise an eyebrow and ask, "You okay, Gilbert?" Sweat came to the surface of her skin sometimes. Her brain skipped beats, impacting her speaking duly. She cried inside of locked bathrooms. Her heart sped up by 50 beats, her breathing became short and panicked, she vomited up her breakfast.

She showed through. The other ghostbusters showed through sometimes too, but for her it was vivid, tortuous, and omnipresent.

Somehow, the other ghostbusters had less paint on them. She was incalculably jealous and at the same time incalculably curious.

The detachment was too much; it unsettled her to do it. But Abby hadn't called her back. So all Erin was at this point was bed, sheets, comforter, pajamas, pillow, glass of water and that ceiling. The room with empty walls stood still and soft, not a cricket breaking the air, a consecrated, silent space.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm writing this to explore this in Erin's character, but also largely as emotional catharsis.


End file.
